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Empathy Sucks - Chapter 2
He’s lying. Does he think he can fool me? Trouble
is, I can’t work out about what. There are so many layers of lies on Angel,
they are like sediment, obscuring the truth.
It’s warm in the car. The poof has turned the heating up, trying to create an
illusion of warmth in this otherwise chilly atmosphere. It’s raining and the
persistent movement of the washers, back and forth, back and forth, intensifies
the feeling of being cut off from the world. It’s almost hypnotic. I stare out
into the wet night and I’m thinking about blood.
Have you ever been to a slaughter-house?
Don’t.
I guarantee you’d never eat meat again. When you’re a predator, you can’t afford
to slow down enough to think about the food. You need to fuck it and rip it,
tear it and maim it. You need blood pouring like a river through your brain.
And the lion shall lie down with the lamb? Bet the fucker didn’t want to eat
lamby after that! Cus he got too cosy with ‘im.
I know. I’ve been slowed down. One hundred and twenty six years of fuckin’ and
ripping and tearing and maiming ‘em. Life’s been a haze of blood. No focus.
One day it all slowed. I slowed. Got chipped. And when I slowed, and the blood
cleared? Shit, then the focus returned. Then I started to see them.
So, yeah! Empathy sucks. Cus I can’t. Suck. Cus I don’t want to. I like them.
I like being with them. I like watching emotion flit over their faces. I like
hearing them laugh. I like making them laugh. I like that they are alive. I’m
sick of death and dead things and darkness.
But I don’t know how to do this. I’m lost and I have no guide.
I can’t make a connection with them beyond their fear and their hatred for me.
They get to practice this connection thing. They have a childhood. They’re allowed
to make mistakes. I’m a hundred and twenty six and I don’t know how to say,
‘I’m sorry’. I’m a hundred and twenty six and I don’t know how to say, ‘I need
you’. I don’t know the rules. I frighten them.
I gave Red a Birthday present. A ring. I’d stolen it years ago in England for
Dru, but she said the Druids screamed at her from it and never wore it. So I
thought the Witch would like it. But I couldn’t cope with the pleasure the gift
gave her. The pleasure it gave me.
Giles is suspicious of me. I know he is. He watches me with those knowing eyes
of his. Protecting his children. And he has a right to be afraid. Not cus I’d
bite them. Because I may smother them. Smother them with my need. I need them
to teach me. Teach me how to lie down with them. Cus I have no one else. The
person I relied most on in the world, whose thigh is merely inches from mine,
is effectively lost to me. He is my Sire. He was my teacher, my mentor, my friend,
my lover. He was my north, my south, my east, my west. But now I’m lost. I have
no reference points by which to navigate this new land. I am alone. I am scared.
Empathy hurts.
I’m lying to him and I think he knows that I am. What
he doesn’t know, is what I’m lying about. He sees through the lie about the
chip. He’s not that gullible, despite what Giles thinks. What does the Watcher
know? He sees only the public front Spike chooses to put out to the world. You
don’t get to be one hundred and twenty six years, seven months and fifteen days
old, without being smart. That’s why he’s here, to see what advantage there
might be to him. Despite the lies.
He’s pretending to look out of the window, into the steadily falling rain. But
I know he’s thinking about me. Thinking about how I’ve let him down.
Six months I’ve been waiting to have him with me again. Six months of phone
calls to Giles every week, wanting to ask about him, never wanting to mention
his name. Six months of needing to know. Needing to know if it was going to
happen to him, too. If he was going to develop a soul. A mechanical one albeit,
but still a functioning soul. That small part inside of you, where you feel
affinity for others. That small part where you hear their pain and sense their
despair. Giles’ phone call tonight told me that it was time.
Time for me to come for him.
I turn my head to look at him. He is still feigning indifference to this situation.
I am going to tell him the truth. I don’t want him to go on thinking I am going
to help him with the chip. That’s the last thing I want to do. Spike’s chip
was like a gift from God, for me. It brought my Childe to join me in this new
land, where empathy makes us suffer for the suffering of others.
But as I open my mouth to frame the words my cellphone rings.
‘Angel.’
‘Oh, Angel, good. It’s Wesley. Cordelia’s had a vision. A woman, it appears
to be in a park. We think we’ve located it. Can you go straight there? It’s
rather nasty I’m afraid.’
‘Spike is with me.’ I turn to him as I say these words and he looks back at
me. Our eyes meet for the first time tonight. ‘It’s work. It’s bad,’ I say to
him with no inflection in my voice. Let him make the first move. He just shrugs
and continues to stare out of the window.
‘Alright, give me directions. We’ll go straight there.’
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1 | 2 | 3 |
4 | 5 | 6 |
7 | 8 | 9 | |